


Joined

by yeaka



Category: Red Riding Hood (2011)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22013059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Peter offers up a proposition.
Relationships: Henry Lazar/Peter/Valerie, Peter/Henry Lazar
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Joined

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Red Riding Hood or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Henry’s visited Valerie’s home in the woods a few times, always only when invited, like now—he could’ve waited for her, but he knows the way himself, and she insisted he go on ahead. So he did. He might be the only one who dares do so anymore—who ever ventures so far beyond the village. He’s definitely the only one who knows she’s not alone. 

He’s not surprised to see Peter outside, knee deep in the snow, chopping wood. His absence has been sorely felt in the village, but Henry never suggests he return. Henry never brings up Peter’s whereabouts. He has his suspicions, but he doesn’t dare breathe them aloud for fear that they’ll prove true. He stands at the edge of the yard, somewhat protected from the gentle snowfall by the thick trees around them. For a long moment, he stays there, watching Peter work. Peter’s grown a little taller, a little thicker than when they last met—overall _stronger_ , his muscles evident as he swings the heavy axe down into the wood. It splits cleanly in two. He lifts another and continues on, never looking aside, though Henry’s sure that Peter knows he’s there. Peter seems to have uncannily sharp senses nowadays. Peter waits for Henry to make the first move. 

Finally, Henry does. He forces his mind to stop working—he doesn’t even want to _think_ the word that flickers through his brain whenever he thinks of Peter’s exile. He comes to Peter’s side anyway, daring himself to be brave. 

Peter spares him a short glance and a thin smile but keeps going. Henry clears his throat and says, “I saw Valerie in the market. She invited me for dinner.”

Peter nods. A final swing, and he leaves the axe in the stump. He straightens out and turns to Henry properly, fierce eyes boring right into Henry’s soul even though they’ve barely said a word to each other. For a moment, Peter’s eyes linger along his body, straying down to strange places, and then Peter asks, “Did she mention what we want with you?”

Henry didn’t know they wanted anything with him. He figured dinner was just _dinner_ , but it doesn’t sound like it anymore. He answers, “No.”

Peter takes a step closer, erasing the short distance between them. His boots crunch loudly into the snow, his dark hair littered with small flecks of white. He says, “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened.” A short pause, then: “I suppose you still want Valerie.”

Henry’s mouth runs dry. Of course he does. She’s _beautiful_. She’s clever and wild, and there’s no other woman like her. But Henry answers, “I recognize that she only wants you. I won’t come between you two.”

Peter actually grins like he already knows that. Like Henry’s no threat at all. He obviously isn’t. Valerie made her choice long ago and has never wavered from it. But Peter asks, “How do you feel about _me_?”

Henry’s brow furrows. He doesn’t understand the question. Peter doesn’t clarify. Despite Henry’s suspicion, he can still admit, “I wish we could be friends.” They worked well together once. Peter’s a good man—Henry knows that now. He risked his life for the woman he loves and has never failed her. 

But Peter asks, “What if I want to be more than friends?”

“What?”

Peter’s chin tilts up, but his eyes drop down, now clearly tracing along the lines of Henry’s body. It heats Henry’s cheeks to see the fire in them. Peter’s lips part, and Henry watches, fascinated, as Peter’s tongue slowly traces them. He purrs in a low growl, “My... _appetite_ has increased. Valerie’s fierce enough to handle me—probably the only woman who could. But I want to give her some reprieve. We think inviting a third person into our bed might do that.”

Henry’s mouth has gone dry. He repeats, dazed, “ _What_?”

Henry hates to think the word, but Peter’s grin is downright _wolfish_. He leans forward, smooth but slow, leaving plenty of time for Henry to reel away, but Henry doesn’t go anywhere. He lets Peter press into him, mouth flattening against his own, broad chest crashing into him. Peter’s fingers lift to tangle in his hair, the gloves roughly dragging through it. Peter’s lips are so much _softer_ than Henry would’ve guessed. 

Henry parts his lips in a quiet moan, and Peter takes advantage of that to slip his tongue inside Henry’s mouth. Henry closes around it and kisses Peter back without thinking twice. Instinct takes over, his body responding to the pleasant sensations, and he surprises himself with how much he _wants_ Peter in that moment. Maybe he always has, he just never thought he _could_.

But of course Peter and Valerie wouldn’t worry about taboo. They don’t care what’s _proper_. They love and lust their own way, and Henry desperately admires that. 

When Peter slowly pulls away, Henry actually tries to follow him. Peter chuckles and steps back, hand falling to the handle of his axe. He tells Henry, “Think about it. We still have plenty of time before dessert.”

He fetches the next log to cleave in two. 

Henry doesn’t need to think about it. Through his stunned haze, he knows the answer’s _yes_.


End file.
